


Unabashedly yours,

by Monsieur



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Ambiguous Age, Domination, Kidnapping, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Weddings, except not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29901441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur/pseuds/Monsieur
Summary: Fills for Dickdami Week 2021
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	1. Day 1 - Domination

Sparring was a form of power play for Damian, Dick had long learned. Even as his charge had softened, something about facing each other on the training mats with the intent to conquer, flipped off certain limits in Damian's brain.

Limits that Dick had to beat back into Damian every time.

It was with no small amount of shame that Dick realized he loved doing it. He loved pushing Damian to his limits, he loved teaching his charge what he lacked in experience, and, most of all, he loved having his Robin utterly at his mercy.

"C'mon, we've been at this for an hour. Just yield." Damian continued running through his escapes like a list, but Dick counter-grappled each of his attempts. Methodical, which was the worst thing against Nightwing. Dick pondered if flexibility training would break his Robin out of his habits.

Even though Damian wouldn't be able to see his face, Dick smirked as he tightened his chokehold on his charge. He could feel Damian's neck muscles tense, esophagus push out for air underneath his arm. Suppressing the exhilaration in his voice, he teased, "Wow, you're a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"

Damian stopped struggling for a moment, breathing so heavily that Dick could hear his heart thumping from being pressed back against him.

"So what if I am?"

Whatever Dick had been expecting, the low and sultry reply wasn't it. His grip loosened enough for Damian to slip, but Dick was nothing if not a master of regaining his composure. He snatched Damian by his neck and slammed onto the mat, chest first, harder than he ever had during their training sessions. He held Damian's head with one hand and his wrists with another, and then mounted his thighs.

"Did that make you angry?" Damian breathed.

Dick held back a shiver because Damian had never felt so tiny, so vulnerable underneath him. "It's inappropriate."

"If it makes you feel better, I enjoy all this." It didn't. It made Dick feel like shit, the scum of the earth. It was something for Dick and only Dick to indulge in. Damian wasn't supposed to know, wasn't supposed to even be aware of these things. But he guessed growing up in the League made it necessary to pick up these things. "I won't mind if you want to be rougher. You can even take it further, if you so desire."

Dick slid up, his crotch barely brushing against Damian's tight ass. He closed his eyes as he inadvertently pushed Damian deeper into the mat. "We're not having this conversation. Please, yield."

Damian lifted his hips and grounded up on Dick's hardening cock. " _Make me_."

Still straddling him, Dick's eyes flew open. He flipped Damian over in an instant and snatched Damian by his chin. This was a mistake. He pushed a thumb into his charge's open mouth, letting tiny teeth dig into his skin and feeling a small, delicate tongue roll over his calloused thumb. This was another mistake. Yet Dick gently retracted his finger, tilted Damian's chin up, and leaned down for a kiss.

A rational part of him pleaded him to stop. But a treacherous, more animalistic part clawed up his spine, dug its nails into the nerves along his back, and howled into the blood roaring between his ears.

It wasn't enough.

He cupped Damian's face and pressed in further, hot breaths fanning over each other as he slid his tongue between Damian's lips. Dick wanted to bite until Damian bled, he wanted to take until Damian screamed, and he wanted to succumb to his dark, unbidden desires until his Robin was nothing without his touch.

But, most desperately of all, Dick didn't want this to be a mistake.

The cold stillness of the cave fell apart around him and Dick felt like he was burning up, melting as Damian grasped at his shirt and moaned around him. Dick didn't know whether he wanted to melt into Damian, or Damian to him, but he wanted all of him. Every inch of skin. Every strand of hair. Every single cell and atom in his body and—

And Damian sighed into his lips, docile and demure and stoking the searing fire in the pit of Dick's stomach.

"I submit."


	2. Day 2 - Soulmate

Dick's soulmark didn't come in until he was 14. At least, that was the age when he had first noticed it. He had gotten hit on his side from patrol that night and wanted to check how bad the bruising was when he saw.

Giddiness filled his chest and he arched his head to get a closer look. It was a faded green thing between his shoulder blades. If he tilted his head and squinted, it looked like a blobby little bat. It was cute, and it reminded him of Bruce.

But it also made him anxious, because 14 years was a big age gap—he hadn't even seen a Brucie fling with a difference that large (because it would be very illegal, first of all).

Dick tried to imagine meeting his soulmate when they're both the right age. People can get married when they're 18 in New Jersey. Eighteen plus fourteen equals thirty-two. Thirty-two. Dick had slumped over his sink with a groan. Even Bruce wasn't that old, and he was Dick's not-dad.

Later, he confided in Bruce, Alfred, and even Barbara, but they had all assured him that soulmates don't necessarily have to be romantic or sexual. They told him that the chances of him meeting his soulmate was very slim, and that most people can spend their entire life never meeting their soulmates.

They all gave him concerned looks afterwards, because he knew he was drooping from their stilted explanations.

Mary and John Grayson were soulmates, and Dick guessed he couldn't help but want to be like his parents too.

* * *

After a long flight in the Batplane from Nanda Parbat, Dick stripped his suit in the quietness of his apartment's bathroom. Beneath all of the scars and bruises, his soulmark glowed a unmistakable vivid green.

Fuck.

* * *

Dick was eventually going to talk to Bruce about _that_. After all, there were only so many kids he had seen between Wayne Manor, the League of Assassins' hideout, and Nanda Parbat near Christmas. But between his duties in Bludhaven and Gotham being _Gotham_ , he didn't get so much of a word in before Bruce was snatched away by Darkseid.

Through all of his grief, Dick couldn't help but to be a little bit relieved that he didn't have to explain that particular situation to Bruce.

On the flip side, Alfred put him in charge of rearing his own soulmate. Maybe if Alfred knew, then he would've taken the boy under his wings instead of forcing Dick's hands, but he knew that as tough as the old butler was, he wouldn't be able to connect with Damian in a way Dick could.

(Is this grooming? This is definitely grooming.)

* * *

The first night in the penthouse, Dick had woken up to Damian caging his head between his arms. He wasn't exactly big, so he was pressing right against Dick's torso despite his best efforts to loom over his Batman.

"You belong to me."

Dick wanted to believe Damian naive of their connection since he hadn't brought it up once so far. Clearly some things that shouldn't be genetic were genetic (like deductive reasoning).

Cursing Bruce underneath his breath, Dick shot up and his charge tumbled easily from his chest. He grabbed the boy by his waist, lifting him up in spite of his exhaustion from being awaken in middle of his REM cycle, and—

"Are you going to take me, beloved?"

Aaand that was that. With Damian tucked underneath his arm, Dick marched out of the room into the boy's own room. He dropped the brat in his own bed. Before he could call it a night, and boy was it a long night, Damian made it impossibly longer by remarking how Dick was pretty kinky for wanting to take him in his safe haven.

Dick momentarily blacked out, then came back and rose up to leave. When Damian finally realized that Dick wasn't going to take him in the way he wanted, he jumped the man, tried to stab him with his viola's bow, and threw a tantrum that had Alfred up and running to see what the fuss was about.

This wasn't how Dick wanted his grandfather to find out that he had a soulmate over a decade his junior. He didn't want his grandfather to find out. Period.

Dick started locking his door, and his windows the night after when that didn't deter Damian.

Despite Damian's attempts to reject the whole "detective" side of their nighttime—vigilante activities, he learned to dust for fingerprints on Dick's bedroom keypad a day later. He reluctantly admitted that he might've been a little too hasty as he slid under Dick's cover. After all, they weren't even married.

Dick, frozen, let the boy snuggle up to him. He spent that entire night trying to decide whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

If there was one plus to this situation, it was that Damian was more malleable than ever to his suggestions and teachings. It had Dick feeling like he was cheating, somehow.

The downsides, on the other hand, were numerous. Alfred was understanding, but the others were...something. Barbara, because she was Oracle so of course she would know, simply levied him a flat look and took him aside.

"State exemptions for soulmates are for 16 and older. We're not even going into how you two are related by law and you're all but his guardian."

"Oh my _god_ ," Dick whispered underneath his breath, pretending to not know this. He had not looked this information up at any point whatsoever. "You told me that soulmates could be platonic! This could be platonic!"

She just kind of stared at him with an indescribable expression. "Right. Be careful."

Tim was both more and less understanding, because he could rationalize that Dick wanted to keep his soulmate close, but he also had the moral rigidity of a brick wall. It was awkward, really awkward, because Tim hated Damian but felt like he had to protect Damian's innocence (pft) from Dick.

"You trust me, right?"

Tim turned from his computer. "Obviously."

"Then why don't you trust me around Damian?"

Tim broke eye contact and gestured weirdly. "Well. It's. I think. You would have a hard time keeping it in your pants. It's only a conjecture based on your past relationships. 's all."

Lowly, Dick asked, "Tim Jackson Drake-Wayne, do you think I'm a slut?"

Red Robin silently swiveled his chair back to his monitors.

* * *

In the end, Dick did have to explain to Bruce. He almost cried before he could mouth out the first word. Damian stood beside him, for emotional support purposes only, of course.

Bruce placed an understanding hand on Dick's shoulder, all pity and just deathly tired. "Just don't commit a crime."

"Vigilantism is a crime," Damian grumbled.


	3. Day 3 - Aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where my writing gets rougher (if possible lol)

It's embarrassing, Dick thought as he snuggled into Damian's chest, to be comforted like this. He nudged against the soft fingers carding through his hair and relaxed into Damian's touch. Nice, but embarrassing.

He was the dom; he was beating and biting and being so fucking awful to Damian so he could indulge his most heinous desires, but he was also the one comforted after their play.

"You know I love you right?" Dick hated how his voice sounded so raspy. Of course it would after he shouted all those terrible things at Damian. "I love you so much."

"I know. I love you too." Damian gave him a reassuring squeeze, and Dick didn't feel so empty anymore until Damian started leaning away.

Dick whimpered and tried to pull his baby closer because he didn't want Damian to go, even though it would be well within his right considering how awful Dick had been to him earlier. 

Damian stopped to press a kiss on his forehead. "I'm just getting some water for you. You sound hoarse."

Soon Dick was propped up against the headboard, Damian in one of his arms and a water bottle, the other.

"You didn't hurt me in any way I didn't want. I always enjoy what we do, what you do for me," Damian continued as he drew little circles on Dick's chest. He then peppered the surface with little butterfly kisses. So loving, so affectionate.

With each kiss, the knot in Dick's stomach loosened bit by bit. It made him feel better, to know that he hadn't crossed any lines. He wasn't just going to let Dick hurt him. It would be a disservice to still think that of his lovely boy.

They remained in silence, just content in snuggling together to the sound of their breathing.

Damian was the first to break the silence, with words that Dick absolutely despised. "Let's clean up?"

Dick groaned and buried his face into Damian's hair. Inwardly, Damian smiled. This spoiled behavior meant Dick was only a few steps away from complete recovery. "Five more minutes? Please. Pleaaase. I love you sooo much."

"You're not the one with dried cum in his ass." Dick only groaned again at this, stubbornly refusing to move. With a huff, Damian pushed his lover's head up and whispered into his ear. "I have Alfred's ciambellone in the fridge. And I'll brew us some Earl Grey."

To Damian's eternal amusement, that had Dick shuffling the bedsheets off them both. Dick hoisted him up in a bridal carry, and he marched towards their bathroom like a man on a mission. "Say no more. I got this, babe."

Smiling, Damian patted Dick's cheeks indulgently. "I'm sure you do."


	4. Day 4 - Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Played fast and loose with this prompt. Also the last of the Dd week fics I have finished *sweats*

Dick couldn't help but to wake up to a vivid sense of deja vu. Seeing that he was in no imminent danger, like a feminizing drill for example, he took his time to gather himself and observe his surroundings. 

First, he and Robin crashed a wedding after following a lead from an unknown perpetrator. Then, he woke up from an unsolicited nap by sleeping gas, Robin tied right next to him. Granted, there were some distances between the two events, but it was with Damian by his side.

Nostalgia welled up in his throat. Good times, good times.

However, there were also some stark differences between Una Nemo and whoever this guy was.

Namely, he wasn't in the comfort of an apartment complex with a drill at his head, but a rancid shipping container near the harbor. The unmistakable smell of Gotham's toxic waters and rusted warehouses permeated the air. 

What actually puzzled Dick was the decor. From top to bottom, the room was simulating some sort of gothic wedding backdrop. It even had a dark altar complete with a black and gold edition of the Bible. Two photo umbrellas beamed light into his face, and a third bulb hung over his head.

Next, he catalogued his arsenal, which was...nothing! He had been stripped of his Nightwing suit, but he wasn't naked. Instead, he had on an ornate suit. The fabric felt prohibitively expensive over his skin, and Dick resisted the urge to gag at the design that looked to be worth its weight in gold from sheer craftsmanship alone.

Two pairs of manacles kept his hands and feet chained down, and a leather belt plastered his thighs into a luxurious leather couch. He wiggled a little. There was no give. The chains were short and seemed to be attached to the floor, and a quick tug confirmed that it was melded down. So, he couldn't break out of this with sheer strength. Right, well. With his lockpicks gone, he was at a loss.

From besides him, Damian scoffed. "I see you're finally awake. It was getting dreadfully boring."

"Not everyone has your youthful metabolism. Leave me alone," Dick grumbled and turned to his partner.

Oh. Hm.

Dick couldn't help that his eyes ate Damian up. To his horror, they roamed over his partner from head to toe two times, and spent the third time lingering a little too long over his torso.

Damian wore a dark green veil upon his head with a matching wedding dress, a lacey and skimpy thing that looked absolutely stunning on his body. Dick felt a stab of jealousy and possessiveness as he realized someone must've gotten close to his Robin, because no dress should fit the dip of his hip bones this perfectly. 

The dress wore tight around Damian's chest. It was evident that someone had removed Damian's under armor. And if that wasn't enough, the fabric around his chest was tight and sheer, so his scars and dark areolas were visible to any onlooker.

Damian, who always wore layers upon layers, always dressed conservatively at home or in public, looked indecently exposed.

Dick's eyes caught Damian's through his veil. He quickly averted them, gulping.

They had been dancing around each other for a while, but they've never crossed this line of intimacy. Dick felt painfully awkward trying to gauge boundaries lines he wasn't familiar with.

"Are you okay?" Dick winced at himself. Good job, idiot.

"It could be worse," Damian returned blandly. "We could've blown our identities."

Dick took the opening that Damian gave him and switched the topic. "Well, got any clues to what's this all about?"

"Nope," he said, popping the 'P.' "Haven't seen the perp since I woke up. No horns from any freighters either, so unless a day has passed, it's still the middle of the night. We couldn't have been out for more than an hour."

Dick grimaced. Bruce was tracking the Joker who had broken out that evening, so he won't be coming to their rescue before dawn. He spared a quick glance to Damian, which was a mistake because his eyes darted towards Robin's nipples _again goddammit Richard John Grayson why_. 

He wasn't sure if it was the light bulbs or what, but it was getting uncomfortably warm with Damian by his side. At least he wasn't rocking this whole hostage thing by himself.

"What's the plan?"

Damian shrugged. "Wait for the bad guy to show up. Or wait until father picks us up."

They had no tools between them so they went quiet in tandem. It was precisely 30 seconds later that Dick ended the silence to bounce his legs.

" _Nightwing_." Damian tried to bump his leg, but only rustled his skirt a little. 

"This is boring," Dick groaned and threw his head back. "I'm bored."

"I sit next to you in a wedding dress and you have the audacity to say you're bored," Damian deadpanned.

Was that an invitation? To bring up the dress?

"Just trying to be considerate," Dick grumbled. "You look good."

Tempting, actually. If it wasn't for his restraints, he didn't think he could keep his hands to himself. God, he really wanted to lay his head on Damian's lap or push his skirt up. Or stick his head under the skirt and—

"Good? I can't believe the infamous Nightwing can only call this, 'good'." Dick could physically feel Damian rolling his eyes. "I can't believe I'm exchanging vows with the worst groom in the world."

Dick flushed at this and swerved around, leaning as far as he could over Damian's smaller form. Don't look down, don't look down, he chanted. "And you're the brattiest bride I've ever had the pleasure of marrying."

Damian fluttered his eyelashes up at him, a smirk playing on his lips and his green eyes disarmingly coy. "I thought I was your only bride."

Whatever Dick had to say caught in his throat. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again to let out a withering croak. He must've tried to grab Damian, because the sharp pain from pulling at the manacles broke him out of his stupor.

"Shit, Dami—"

Damian suddenly straightened. "Quiet. Someone's coming."

Not a moment later, the container's door started creaking open. The sharp sound made both Dick and Damian cringe in unison, and they tensed as they braced themselves to face off whichever madman had captured them.

A well-dressed older man stumbled in. He wore a pair of round spectacles on his nose. Around his neck were a tape measure and an expensive looking camera. He looked like a tailor, which made sense given their dress. Overall, he was bizarrely normal. Harmless, even. Definitely not from around Gotham, that was for sure.

Nightwing and Robin exchanged a look. Robin gestured with a quick nod, indicating he was going to headbutt the man. 

Nightwing shook his head because a headbutt looked like it would take this man out. Permanently.

"Oh, you two are awake." The man dusted off his slacks before setting up a tripod. He squinted over his glasses. "Now, if you two cooperate, I will make this quick. Pity I couldn't get Batman, but I guess Nightwing will do fine."

"Wait, wait. Like this?" 

The tailor frowned. "Of course! You two should be delighted to be the main feature in my new bridal collection."

"He's," Nightwing gestured to Robin with his chin, "a minor."

"What." The man looked stunned. "But...but he's been around as long as Batman."

"No, no. This is a newer one. If you take that picture with his chest exposed, you might get charged with distribution of, _y'know_."

Dick shook his shackles to emphasize his point. The man paled, and Dick knew he only needed one more push.

"Batman's not gonna be happy if you took promiscuous photos of his _son_."

The tailor let out a little squeak and backed up. He tripped over his tripod, crashing mightily against the metal wall. Oof, the camera. The man hightailed out of there soon enough, leaving Dick and Damian to wonder what the fuck just happened.

"I think that was a record."

They held in their laughter for only a breath before they started cackling, heaving so hard that they were left gasping for air. 

"Did you see his face?" Dick wheezed. Damian nodded besides him. When they finally calmed, they looked at each other before bursting out into raucous laughter again.

When their mirth finally subsided, Damian smirked up at him. "...So, 'Robin is a minor,' hm?"

Dick froze. "You are."

The smirk widened. "From the way you've been sneaking looks at my chest, I would say you're more at risk of 'catching a case' than he is."

Dick began formulating an excuse, trying to add anything to the little banter they had going. But he gave up, because the nervous energy from facing off a villain was gone, and he had to address the elephant in the room. There was no need for pretenses. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"A little," his Robin replied honestly. 

"I'm sorry," Dick whispered, fitfully ashamed. "You're just so covered up all the time, I couldn't help—Sorry. That shouldn't be an excuse. I shouldn't have stared. I should've had more control."

Dick awaited his judgement. It was only a moment, but it felt like a lifetime had passed when Damian finally let out a long, heaving sigh and leaned against him.

"Apology accepted," was the stoic reply. There was more, Dick knew, so he stayed quiet.

"But," Damian sounded so hesitant that Dick's heart pounded in nervous anticipation, "I don't think I would mind if it's you."

Dick felt like his heart was going to fly out of his chest when Damian continued, in the smallest voice.

"And if you wanted to go a little further then..."

Dick's brain shorted. He knew he was gaping at Damian, who was avoiding his eyes with an unexpected shyness about him. He suddenly felt like a teenager again, all nerves and focus like the first time he sat half-naked in his bedroom with his first girlfriend, because Damian had basically given him permission to ogle and _touch_.

"Lean over," Dick said.

Damian cocked his head.

"I just realized your veil's held by bobby pins and if I don't pick these damned locks and touch you _right now_ _I'm going to explode_."


End file.
